


Painted Lover (M!DB/Cicero)

by Nudebeme



Series: Chac and Cicero [19]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Angst, Art, Fluff, Foot Fetish, Love, M/M, Male Slash, Platonic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 19:12:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1952781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nudebeme/pseuds/Nudebeme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Listener falls for Cicero's alabaster skin, and is taken by the idea of using him as a canvas for his next work of art</p>
            </blockquote>





	Painted Lover (M!DB/Cicero)

 

 

“Tell me again why you're doing this, Listener?”

 

Stripped naked as the day he was born, Cicero shivered to the spring breezes which blew over the open fields of Solitude. Nestled below a willow tree and covering himself with the Listener's red shawl, he watched his lover crack open small pots of paint of every different color. The elf took one more glance at his naked muse and pointed him down with the tip of a brush, scanning every feature on the shy little man.

 

“Well _you_ try painting on paper for 100 years, it gets rather boring after a while!” Chac reached out and grabbed Cicero by the ankle, raising his leg up for an inspection, the Imperial biting on his knuckle. It wasn't a good enough answer, but Chac's happy voice danced along “I take one look at this sweet skin and I think, ah, what a perfect canvas for my art.”

 

There was no one around for miles, but still the man felt shy in the presence of the elf. He'd been nude before him countless times before, but still to hear such words by someone so lovely still managed to get his cheeks rosy every time. When he said it that way, of course he believed it..even when no one else in the world thought the same.

 

“But you know Cicero is so very ticklish!”

 

“You can laugh all you want.” Chac reached for his black paint and caught eyes with the madman, seeing him fidget and unveil himself of the red cloth, leaning his back against the willow's trunk. “-just try and hold still or I'll tie you up, okay?”

 

“Hehehe...”

 

Chac dipped his fingers into the pot of inky black paint, and Cicero smiled for him as he exposed his freckled chest to him. Chac trailed his fingertips from his collar all the way down his chest, the lovely expanse of his hairless, alabaster skin until he reached the short scruff of his groin. Torso split in half, Cicero's mad eyes watched Chac without faltering as his fingers created art on his exposed ribs and chest.

 

Somewhere along the way, Chac's musing heart became heavy with longing for the madman, even if he had Cicero all to himself in every way. Sometimes simply possessing him didn't feel like enough, and gods he felt guilty for it, taking both red and orange paint as he began to paint his shoulders and biceps. Cicero held back his laughter, his toes curling into the dry moss below their feet, menacing adoration in his eyes for the Listener.

 

Chac's loving heart grew only darker when he took Cicero's wrists into his own hands, bringing them forth and inspecting the skin he knew so well. Memorized. Upon the Jester's forearms, although pale and but a memory, where scars... Self inflicted, his blade cutting wound after wound upon his skin back when the pain was too much to bear, as his mind slowly dwindled away. His wrists still bore these scars, and they tapered down into beautiful hands which where forced to do an ugly job. A job that slowly killed him, he thought.

 

Chac leaned forward and kissed his wrists, and meant every one. Cicero was clueless to his musings and grinned all the while, cupping the elf's cheeks in his palms before those too where kissed. Somewhere in the back of the Imperial's mind he knew the source of those gentle ministrations, saw Chacs fingertips now reach for the brown and green paint, turning the man's forearms into what looked like trees, budding into fresh foliage. It was new growth, and covered the old wounds until green paint dripped into Cicero's smooth palms.

 

“Oh Listener, how pretty!” Cicero chirped, flexing his slender fingers and looking down at the colorful canvas of his body, seeing his master and lover now moving to his lower half which still remained bare.   
“Stay still, flamingo, don't want to smudge any of it. Stand up, please.”

 

Cicero pushed himself up to stand. He was a little man, hardly over 5 feet tall, but his body was perfectly proportioned and has been the subject of countless sketches in Chac's journal. As Chac painted his thighs he thought about the countless times he's been between them, despite having a husband and a family living not a dozen miles up the road. Of course he was guilty, but he looked up at Cicero and saw that big smile on his face and knew he couldn't simply _stop_ what this was going on between them for his family's sake. It would be the death of him would that happen.

 

“hehehe-HAHA!” Shaken awake by his ticklish fit, Cicero's very knees quake to the feeling of his painted fingertips trailing black and red down his almost hairless legs. He reached back and steadied himself on the tree, Chac taking the man by the calf and raising his leg up to his lips-

 

“Please don't start- Oh, you're doing it.” Cicero sighs and simply relaxes his back against the tree and watches helplessly as Chac takes his foot up to his face and kisses his toes, grinning ear to ear.

 

“I can't help the way I am.” He couldn't be any more delicate with Cicero's feet if he tried, painting them with the same brown and green until they bore the same patterns as his arms. Cicero's skin was alive with colors, and with a gesture he was told to turn around. Chac thought his back was beautiful as it was, spotted with freckles, a tight little arse bearing the same skin.

 

Chac drenched his hand in black paint, and planted it firmly between his shoulder blades, and Cicero gulped at the severity of his silence. It was the black hand of Sithis, the symbol they both chose to bear, and Chac circled it in black. Nothing was said for a moment, until the elf nudged Cicero's red hair away from his shoulders and kissed the man's neck, earning the softest of peeps from the Jester until he eased himself into Chac's lips.

 

“...why?”

 

“Why not? I love you, Cicero.”

 

He meant it. Every time he said it, Vilkas and his children flashed behind his eyelids..but he meant it. He loved this madman with everything he was, and if it wasn't for the paint on his body, he'd embrace Cicero and show him the extent of his love. The Jester turned around and looked humbled by the elf's words, it wasn't often Chac spoke them, and he could see the spark of happiness well up in his aging eyes.

 

“Hum~” Cicero didn't know what to say, he was afraid to repeat them back so quickly, even though he wanted to, because that's what everything inside told him to say. He was so afraid of his duties to the Night Mother, that they would conflict with..that this would never work but-

 

“I love you, too.” Cicero gave up and said it, and felt that weight inside him lift time after time. Chac didn't wait around, and they where kissing each other before Cicero could even turn around to face him. The Jester never considered himself to be any kind of beautiful, but in Chac's eyes he was, and it felt damn amazing.

 

He was done with his painting, and Cicero's alabaster skin was alive with colors. When they pulled away the little man looked down at himself and did a twist, inspecting what has become of himself.

 

“Lovely, lovely!”

 

“So you'll paint me now?”

 

“You'll need a lot more red, Listener.”


End file.
